Pop music,
pop concert, pop art, pop culture. I assumed “pop” was a recent coinage,
probably originating in the nineteen-sixties, and I was wrong. (In my native
Cleveland, “pop” also meant soda, a carbonated drink.) On this date, June 4, in
1893, E.A. Robinson was in his second year at Harvard (he would soon leave
without a degree, after the death of his father). Robinson is twenty-three. In
a letter he invites his friend Harry de Forest Smith to visit him in
Cambridge. This is not the familiar, grim-minded Robinson of later years, but the sort of
undergraduate for whom “sophomoric” was invented:
“We could
have a great time here together for a few days at a small expense. The `pop’
concerts are in full blast with music and beer galore. Or anything else you
like—light opera or a good cigar on the common.”
The OED doesn’t cite Robinson but includes several earlier usages. George Eliot, of all people, writes in 1862: “We have
been to a Monday Pop, to hear Beethoven's Septett [sic].” All of the early citations are English and quite
unself-conscious. In 1891, the Evening
Chronicle in Newcastle reports: “The Saturday Pops in Newcastle are in a
bad way.” In 1912, the Times of London
offers “The audiences consisted largely of the former habitués of the Monday
‘Pops’.” Only in 1962 is an American source cited. The Oakland Tribune reports: “The Pops fill a space in the scheme of
things musical, like band concerts, which have been called ‘the poor man's
symphony’.”
Digging a
little deeper into Robinson’s work, I found another strikingly early and
modern-sounding use of “pop.” On Sept. 15, 1897, in a letter to another friend,
Edith Brower, Robinson writes:
“Mental medicine,
to be any good, must be of a pretty strong quality—stronger than people like. The Prisoner of Zenda [1894 novel by
Anthony Hope] is nothing but literary pop-beer, and I shouldn’t advise you to imbibe
too much of that sort of thing. I read it half through once, but had to give it
up. I’d rather sit still and count my fingers.”
2 comments:
For some obscure reason, the elite sixth-form society at Eton (our most elite 'public' school) is called 'Pop'. It's been going for 200 years and more.
W.S. Gilbert, "My object all sublime," from "The Mikado":
The music-hall singer attends a series
Of masses and fugues and "ops"
By Bach, interwoven
With Spohr and Beethoven,
At classical Monday Pops.
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